Friday, April 22, 2011

do you hear yourself?

It stood there tall among the many things I own, with its insides shaped like the light bulb it beholds; orange and mighty when it shone. Somehow it managed to stay orange even when it didn't glow in the dark. If you looked past its shade, you can actually see traces from where the bulb left burnt out marks on the dying fabric.

2 comments:

I love this. You remind me of one of my favourite parts of William Blake's work: 'To see a world in a grain of sand, And a heaven in a wild flower, Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, And eternity in an hour.' That is a gift.